The Changes as Time Progresses
by darandomninja
Summary: My house in sight, I walked a bit faster, knowing I can't dodge the issue any longer. I guess I better discuss it with England now before they initiate the plan. Chapter 3 part 1 updated. This one's for you, PureWhiteMagic!
1. The inquiries of Independence

Alfred F. Jones was running through Boston's streets, avoiding as many collisions possible. He had heard from an anonymous source about a very important, secret meeting.

That is what he would say in case someone caught him. In reality, he had eavesdropped on a group of old men in his boredom. Having nothing better to do, he decided to sneak his way into the meeting.

As he bolted towards the location, many posted fliers caught his eye. He didn't slow down, but his once excited expression drastically changed into a look of uneasiness.

Recently, many of his people had been outraged by the Sugar Act England had placed on his colonies. Alfred had decided to take their opinions to his brother himself, but had been convinced after a long discussion that the recent tax was for the best.

"I know that they are mad, but can't they see that England's just doing the best for all of us?" he thought, hurt that many people were hostile against England at the moment.

His thoughts were interrupted as he spotted the building. Alfred slowed down to a walking pace, and looked around his surroundings. The building was more of a small cabin, surrounded by a forest. Finding a small hole on the side of the building, he tiptoed towards it and cautiously peered inside.

A loud and powerful voice suddenly spoke up as he was positioning himself.

"I would like to address the recent act England has unjustifiably placed upon us," the voice announced, sending chills running up Alfred's back.

"Wait, this is about England and the Sugar Act?!" Although he believed England did what was right and was just with his actions, Alfred couldn't help but stay, very curious to what they would address.

* * *

Alfred sat on the ground, his body refusing to move as the members of the meeting filed out. Flying through his head were the topics brought up throughout the meeting.

"_If we are taxed, it should be by the colonial assemblies, not some government across the ocean!"_

"_We should be considered their equal!"_

"_No taxation without representation!"_

"_From this day on, we will be known as the Sons of Liberty!"_

Hearing the last person shuffle out the door, he somehow found the strength to move once more. Standing, he took another shaky breath and stepped forward.

Snap.

He froze, staring at the now broken twig. "_Okay, people will think that noise was made by an animal,"_ he thought frantically. Distressed, he looked around nervously and caught someone's eye.

"Damn."

Alfred broke into a run, occasionally looking behind him. _Almost there. . ._

A hand clamped around Alfred's wrist, jerking him backwards. He turned around then froze, as if he had been caught throwing away England's scones, and saw his brother's disheartened face, only to feel immediate guilt.

"Who are you?! Why were you spying on us?! Are you an agent for the British?!" he demanded, breathing heavily every other word.

The man, seeing the teenager just blankly stare at him, dragged him back to the cabin. Locking the door, he glared at the teenager. "Speak," he commanded.

Alfred meekly spoke, "I-I'm Alfred F. Jones." Hearing those weak words escape from his throat, Alfred's face scrunched up. Gathering his courage and self-confidence he especially stocked up for emergency cases such as this, he stood up tall, crossed his arms, and locked eyes with the stranger.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones. Now, it seems you haven't heard about me, but I'm famous around these parts for being a hero. Either way, I got bored so I decided to listen in to your conversation. It's practically your fault though, since it was so easy to find out about this meeting. And what is this all about with the 'agent for the British' stuff? Arth-England isn't bad. You shouldn't hate your Father country," he arrogantly stated, taking a deep breath after his long introduction.

Instead of being shocked by the sudden change of attitude, the stranger laughed, echoing throughout the room. Alfred couldn't resist the change in the atmosphere between them and joined in, smiling his bright grin.

"Forgive me," the stranger managed to say after several minutes of uncontrollable laughter. "I apologized for my atrocious behavior."

Although Alfred had no clue what "atrocious" meant, he did notice the former tension disappearing.

"Samuel Adams," he introduced, "It's pleasant to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jones." He then put out his hand, waiting for the other to accept it.

As they shook hands, Alfred detected a gleam in Mr. Adam's eyes and the lively thoughts behind that wide smile. "So," Mr. Adams began slowly, "Why would a fine, young man such as yourself be eavesdropping on old men like us?"

Alfred wearily replied,"It's just like I said. I was bored and overheard about your meeting. I just got curious and decided to check it out."

Mr. Adams saw the potential Alfred held. Already, Alfred had created a strong first-impression on the man, one with the lust for adventure and an interest in the current affairs between the England and the colonies. The most important aspect, however, was the certain feeling Mr. Adams got when he caught Alfred, like he was going to become an important figure.

Alfred couldn't deny that Samuel Adams was cool. He had to be cautious, though, because his secret meetings were definitely trouble. But even so, it sparked something inside of him. He remembered about John Locke and his beliefs. Alfred talked about it with Arthur, but was told to forget those "idiotic ideas that belong in the rubbish can" and how it was going to rot his brain. Even as he tried to forget it, it still stayed in the back of his mind, bothering him repeatedly.

"Mr. Adams, I have a request to make." Alfred said in all seriousness.

Curious to what this favor would be, he asked, "Go ahead and ask, though I can't guarantee that I can fulfill it."

"Tell me more about independence and the Sons of Liberty."

* * *

~Back in England~

A man, clad in a heavy robe and a large, bejeweled crown was perplexed by the recent oppositions in his colonies. He was considering to repeal the Stamp Act, but was disgusted by how weak he would seem. The huge doors creaked open, and he looked up at the intruding man.

"Your majesty, King George the Third." he man kneeled on his right knee, greeting the ruler respectfully.

"What would compel you to come without an invitation Prime Minister Charles Watson-Wentworth?" he asked, expecting an answer that wouldn't disappoint him.

"Your majesty, I have an idea on how to stop the rebellion while still maintaining your rule over the colonies in the New World."

Interested, King George leaned forward in his throne, his ears wide open. "And to what would that be Prime Minister?"

The Prime Minister had kept kneeling on his right knee the whole time, so his forming smile went unnoticed by the King."A new act, Your Majesty, that would surely secure your power over the colonies. The Declaratory Act."

While this exchange took place Arthur was quietly sipping his Earl Grey Tea in his room, a gentle smile on his face as he stared at a portrait of him and Alfred.

* * *

**I had to rewrite and repost this chapter because the information I received from Wikipedia and other sites were wrong. I mean, each website was contradicting to the other. So, I decided to borrow and awesome reference book from the library. And when you read about something historical and imagine Hetalia characters in it's place, it will become amusing. :D Also, if you didn't read the chapter, I did add new parts to the story, subtle, but might become important later on.  
**

**Anyway, explanation time! (With the correct information.)**

**In March 1675, King George III(1738-1820) approved of the Stamp act to pay for the French and Indian War (1754-1763). July 1675, the Son's of Liberty was united and began to operate many protests, some under the name of Committee of Correspondence as a cover. **

**King Geroge III was eventually tired of the rebellion and sought out for an alternative solution. British Prime Minister Charles Watson-Wentworth(1730-1782) was the mastermind of the Declaratory Act, which subjected the colonists to the rule under the King and the parliament, who is the almightly ruler of them. So, the Stamp Act was repealed and the approval of the Declaratory Act happened on the same day(March 18, 1766). **

**For my story, I made it so that Samuel Adams first told his ideas to people in secret. When he saw the audience's reactions, he decided to take the next chance given to make it public. This is just my idea, for I'm pretty sure that was not what really happened.**

**I honestly don't know what the next chapter shall contain. I'll find out as soon as I have the time and inspiration to write it. Don't forget to read and review. It will help me finish the next chapters sooner. :3**

**~Tsubasa, darandomninja**


	2. It's not true, right?

"How could I be so stupid?! If I paid attention sooner instead of celebrating, I could have helped stop this mess."

"It wasn't your fault, Alfred. It would've happened anyway." Mr. Adams tried to comfort the frustrated man by gently patting his back repeatedly.

_You couldn't have imagined how much I could have done. _Alfred thought bitterly. _If I was smart, I could have gone to England and ask him to stop this. But, it's too late. . . _

Alfred looked out of Mr. Adam's room window, observing the small specks of snow falling gently onto his gloomy citizens. Just a year or two before, the city was full of life, celebrating their victory. After all, they had rebelled against the unjust Stamp Act. They worked so hard for it to be repealed, only to have it replaced by harsher laws.

_The Declaratory, Townshed, and the Declaratory Acts. Who would have thought England would allow them to do this? He said he was in favor of all these laws because they would help us. I trusted him..._

_No! _Alfred shook his head, disapproving his melancholy thoughts. _I mean, he somehow got brainwashed into this. Being the "superior" doesn't sound like him, more like this crazy king. Yes, that's it._

"Alfred? Alfred, are you alright?" Concerned, Mr. Adams lightly tapped him on the shoulder, sending dazed Alfred back into reality.

"Uh, yes Mr. Adams. I'm fine," he replied, emotionless. He forced himself to turn his head and look away from the window. Mr. Adams began to fidget, uncomfortable of the suffocating awkward silence.

Alfred noticed this and jumped up, landing with a loud 'thud', startling his friend. "Now, what should we do next? I mean, the Sons of Liberty meeting will take place soon. I know how much you like to be ahead, so at least tell me in advance." Nudging his elbow, he looked up and wore his dazzling smile. "After all, you wouldn't leave me, your bloody-awesome practically-part-of-your-family friend, out of your plans, right?!"

Mr. Adams smiled at him as a response before engrossing himself in his strategies. "In order to retaliate against the Townshed Acts, I have already composed a letter, named the Massachusetts Circular Letter, pointing out the Parliament's attempts to raise revenue, regardless of our rights. . . "

Halfway discussing Mr. Adam's plans, the door flew open, revealing a middle age man, red-faced and breathless. Noticing the startled, frightened expression on the man's face, Mr. Adams sprang into action.

"Mr. Edgeworth, what in the blazes is going on here?!" he asked, bewildered. Mr. Edgeworth kept glancing at the door, foreboding urgent news.

Mr. Edgeworth took deep breaths before hastily replying. "I tried to tell them sir. I really did try, but they refused to listen. They're bloody drunk and were talking about their plans to show they won't be hauled around by the British like an obedient pack of mules. Normally, they wouldn't do anything rash, however, there's no telling as to what might happen. Please sir, please stop them!"

Halfway out the door, Mr. Adams looked at the frantic man and bellowed, "Where are they?!"

Mr. Edgeworth weakly pointed out the window. "They're in the town square."

With that answer, Mr. Adams ran towards the town center, Alfred in tow.

Alfred didn't quite understand why the two were so worried. _It's not like it's a big deal. The colonists and the soldiers will just trade insults, nothing more._

Mr. Adams noticed his companion's slow of pace. Still trudging through the inches of snow, he sternly shouted back, "Alfred, I'm not going to wait for you. This could turn into something serious!"

Alfred thought, "This is unnecessary," but he picked up his pace.

As they neared their destination, they saw a huge crowd surrounding the town square's center. They hurried quickly, anticipating loud shouts to reach their ears. They reached the square and heard. . .

Nothing. _Absolutely nothing_. Mr. Adams grew anxious, for a silent crowd didn't bode good news. He pushed through the assembled group with Alfred trailing behind, now fueled with curiosity.

They were halfway through the crowd when a shot rang through their ears, followed by series of shouts from the mob. Mr. Adams noticed Alfred's presence had disappeared. He spun and saw Alfred clutching his now bleeding arm, his expression filled with pain.

"Was he shot by that bullet?!" Mr. Adams thought frantically. He immediately ran to his fallen comrade when a series of shots were fired. Alfred screamed, his knees buckled, and he fell down, writhing in pain as his blood slowly began to dye the surrounding snow red. One more shot rang out and Alfred succumbed to the dark abyss.

"It's too late to help those men now," Mr. Adams solemnly thought as he quickly tore up a piece of his sleeve and pressed it onto his friend's bleeding arm, finding a huge gaping cut, but no bullet wound in sight. Knowing there would be a better time to ask about this profound mystery later, he skillfully unbuttoned his trench coat. After some difficulty, he managed to place Alfred on top of the article of clothing and began to drag him through the chaotic sea of people, hoping his strength will last until he arrived at his house.

_**

* * *

**"Tear up more cloth . . . You, hold him down . . . Pour more water in the basin. . ."_

Alfred's eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up. Feeling a sharp pain on his arm, a feeble moan escaped his lips before he fell back down onto the bed.

His eyes searched the room, trying to make sense of where he was until his eyes laid on Mr. Adams.

"Mr. Adams, what happened?" he asked, trying to hide his anxiousness behind a feeble smile.

In response, he just gave a small smile. Addressing the other people in the room, he commanded, "You may all leave now." After the door closed, he sat down on the chair next to the bed and stared at Alfred, his eyes sympathetic.

Mr. Adam's walked over to the nearby desk. Grabbing a piece of paper, he walked back and handed it to Alfred.

Alfred numbly took it and began to skim through it, growing more horrified by every word he read.

Finished, he let go of the paper, allowing it to silently flutter to the ground. Alfred sat up, wrapped his arms around himself, ignoring the pain, and chanted "It's not true" over and over again.

Whispering, "I'm sorry," Mr. Adam's stood up and proceeded to leave the colony alone, only to feel a tug on his shirt. He turned around and was faced by a pain stricken boy.

"It's. . .It's not true, right? England and his people wouldn't do this to me. Please tell me it's not true." Alfred pleaded, hoping Mr. Adam's would say it was just a misunderstanding.

There were so many questions Mr. Adam's wanted to ask. _Where did this wound come from? Your arm began bleeding when someone fired his gun, but you had no bullet wound. A normal person wouldn't be able to survive, much less move easily, with that profuse bleeding, yet you can still sit up_. _And what did you mean about "England and his people"? Exactly what are you? Are you even human? _However, Mr. Adam's realized this was not the best time to badger him with questions that might cause more pain to his already miserable state.

Acknowledging the pained silence and his companion's melancholy eyes, Alfred released his grip and stared at the wall. It was after he heard the door quietly close that he realized tears were threatening to spill out. With no one in the room, he punched the nearby wall repeatedly, until a huge dent had formed, threatening to crumble if it was hit once more. He pulled his arm back, ready to give the wall it's final blow, when he suddenly let his arm fall limply to his side as he began to sob uncontrollably until he was fast asleep.

* * *

**Konnichiwa Minna-san!~ I trust you all had a great Christmas! I sure did! :D For a late Christmas {or an early New Years surprise, depending on how you see it}, I posted my next chapter! *pulls confetti poppers* OMG! I ALMOST FORGOT! NEXT CHAPTER DEVOTED TO THE FIRST PERSON WHO GUESSES CORRECTLY WHERE I GOT THE NAME MR. EDGEWORTH VIA REVIEW! XD  
**

**Time for some historical background! : {Courtesy of a Primary Sources book of the American Revolution by Linda Schmittroth}**

**England still needed a way to gain money after they repealed the Stamp Act. So, they passed the Townshed Revenue Act(s) (June 29, 1767), which raised taxes on lead, glass, paint, tea, ect. and formed a customs commissioners board to make sure the colonists followed these new acts. The third Townshed Revenue Act {Restraining Act}, suspended the New York Assembly by the request of Thomas Gage. In addition, these Acts where to show Parliament's power over the colonies. **

**By the request of Thomas Gage (1720-1787), who was the British's commander in chief in America (1763-1775), he requested for the Quartering Act (1765), an act that required colonist officials to provide housing for Gage's soldiers for a two year span. Because the New York assembly refused this act, Gage requested (yet again) for the Restraining Act(the one mentioned above). **

**Parliament believed they had complete control over the colonists, while the colonists believed they had a right to be represented. So in response to the Townshed Acts, ****Samuel Adams wrote the a letter, the Massachusetts Circular Letter that pointed the unjust attempt Parliament made that violated colonist's rights. **

**This is how my 8th/ grade history teacher explained the Boston Massacre {since the book didn't give much background on the Boston Massacre}. She said that it was snowing when a bunch of guys got drunk at a local pub. Being drunk, they decided to throw a bunch of snowballs at nearby British Soldiers and yell insults at them. A bunch of other stuff happened that resulted into the Boston Massacre, although only 5 people were killed. Although it isn't proven, historians believe Samuel Adams took this chance to push the colony towards fully rebelling against England. Therefore, that is how that scene was known as the Boston Massacre. **

**Due to the shock (on both sides) of the Boston Massacre, England repealed the Townshed Acts (4/12/1770). However, the tax on tea was still in effect.**

**If anything is wrong, don't hesitate to tell me. So, don't forget to R&R. Flames and compliments alike are gratefully accepted. If you don't review, I won't know if you like/hate/or think this story needs to improve. One word or many words reviews, I gladly welcome them all! So, don't be shy! Review by clicking that review button below! You know, that one that the magical arrow is pointing to? Yup, that's it! :D**

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	3. 3 pt1 The Calm Before the Storm

A couple years have passed since the Boston Massacre. It was December again, and mother nature wasn't hesitant to change into the new season.

From the view of my window, I could see heavy, dark clouds being blown in by a cold front from across the pond. The bell tower chimed, reverberating throughout the quiet town, all citizens sheltered from the icy wind.

These signs could have been seen as foreboding, but my attention was else where. My eyes were glued on the distant port, awaiting for the next ship's arrival.

_Any second now... _I thought as I absentmindedly looked out at the window, the current discussion become a quiet murmur in the background.

"Alfred? Alfred! Are you even listening, lad?" I turned my head to Samuel Adams at the mention of my name, my eyes reluctantly leaving the window.

"Yes! I'm listening! We were talking about. . . " I paused, thinking of a topic my mentor would rant about.

He gave an exasperated sigh. "We were discussing the taxes the English imposed on us. Again! And they had the nerve to try to trick us!"

His tone became softer and his features melted to the borderline of concern. "Is everything alright with you lad?"

I didn't pay attention, seeing the ship begin to dock. I jumped up and ran out of the door. "I have something important to do! See you in a couple of days!"

I ran as fast I could to the dock, the wind biting at my skin. I guess I should have grabbed a jacket, knowing I would be scolded by him, but it mattered not. It's been years since I've seen him, to the point that I would have forgotten his face. Luckily for him, the hero [aka me] is to awesome (I love this new word my people created!) to forget him. Besides, its hard not to think about him, with Adams ranting about him every single day.

I wonder how Adams would react if he knew both he and Iggy are similar?

I panted, stopping in front of the loading dock. My head whipped around, frantically looking for him through the crowd.

"Iggy! Iggy over here!" I yelled when I spotted the familiar blond, messy hair.

I knew he would disapprove of my behavior, but I ran up to him and gave England a huge hero hug. Besides, I know he loves it when I give him a hug, though he will always deny it. I mean, who doesn't?

"It's good to see you Alfred."

I was a bit surprised when he hugged back. It seemed like it was a bit awkward to him, but I appreciated the action none-the-less.

I let go and looked at him, smiling a toothy grin. "I believe you should have given me a better response, for someone who you haven't seen in _years_." I reminded him, putting an extra emphasis on "years".

He gave me a serious look. "Alfred, you do realize the responsibilities of being a powerful nation means. . . "

I raised my hand, "Iggy, I know all of this and I understand why you didn't visit me for so long."

He shot me an apologetic look before shivering. "Let's get out of this cold weather," he stated, walking towards the house in a business-like fashion, which tempted me to mock his stiff posture.

But I went against it, and walked along side of him in silence. Periodically, I would look at him, tearing my glance away when he would realize I was looking at him. _He hasn't changed a bit, though it's too be expected with our kind. It seems I'm changing though, not that he acknowledged anyway._

I shook aside those bitter thoughts. Sure, Iggy's been less of a desired-parental/brother figure lately, but I know he has a whole country to lead. Adams makes it seems like England hates us, but even after the Boston Massacre, I know he didn't mean it. It was a mistake of him people, but in no way it should reflect him.

We finally reached the house, the air heated from the fireplace welcoming us. He folded his coat neatly and placed in a nearby drawer before heading to the kitchen. "Alfred, warm up while I cook us some dinner."

I paled at this. Him, cooking?! I know I missed him, but not enough to miss to swallow those... things he produced. The food [if you can even call it that] was disgusting, a destructive force that can kill an entire army.

I forced my complaints, seeing how happy he looked. _If it's for the small time he's visiting, I think I can swallow it down._

We ate in silence [though I had to put in an effort not to choke or pass out when eating] and I escorted England to his room. I went to my room and laid on my bed for what seemed for hours, trying to fall asleep. But I kept hearing a thumping noise from outside and my fear got the best of me. I quickly ran to England's room, where he seemed to be trying to sleep after a long time traveling.

I shook him lightly, "Iggy, c-can I sleep with you?" I paused, adding, "Not because I'm scared or anything, but to protect you. It's your first time here in a long while, and. . . "

He groaned, but moved over so there would be enough space for me to sleep. I smiled and immediately got myself comfy. I stared at him back, "Don't you dare sleep before me Iggy."

He sighed, "I'll try not to Alfred. Now please go to sleep."

I don't know why, but I couldn't sleep, not when I was laying right next to England. The warm emanating from his back was making my drowsy, yet his total presence kept me awake. But my thoughts were cut short once I heard a definite snore from England.

"Iggy! I told you to not sleep before me!" I whined, knowing he couldn't hear me either way. Sighing, I scooted in closer to my guardian, my face almost pressing against his back. It made me feel safe, and unknowingly, I drifted into a nice, peaceful sleep.

For the rest of England's stay, I kept persisting to show him around. After all, the last time he saw Boston was when it was developing. Well, it's still developing, but that's beside the point.

But no matter how much I whined, he kept using the same excuse. "I have to attend a meeting." "There are important people whom I have to meet." "An important issue came to my attention and has to be dealt with immediately."

Blah, blah, blah. Sure, I know he has it hard, being the British Empire, but it's been over 5 years since we've seen each other. You would think he would at least spend a day with me. But no~ he chooses to work.

Now, I'd never admit it, but I felt hurt. I really thought that he decided to visit when I received news of his arrival. I thought, maybe, that he remembered that promise he made long ago. . .

Well, it's no use dwelling on it now, I thought as I walked towards the Sons of Liberty's meeting spot. I sort-of remember Adams telling me something about a plan and a date. . .

Yes, I know that's a very vague memory, but that's why I'm going to see them now. Though, I know they've spotted me talking with Iggy and would be wondering who he was.

After going through the necessary passwords and such, I entered the building, only to be looked at with curious, wary glares.

I looked around, confused."So, what's wrong? Did a new tax get approved?"

Adams spoke up. "Alfred, exactly what _are _you?"

I froze. _Bloody hell! What should I do? Say something, hero! Something, anything!_

I laughed nervously, my left hand scratching the back of my head. "What are you talking about Mr. Adams? I'm Alfred F. Jones, though I'm also known as the hero!"

He didn't seem convinced and asked again. "What are you, Alfred? You haven't aged normally since the day we've met. You look like you're 16 years old, though when we met 9 or so years ago, you looked like you were 12 years old.

I opened my mouth to spout some random explanation, but he continued on to talk, making me fall silent as he continued his interrogations.

"Also, during the Boston Massacre, where did your wound come from? Your arm began to bleed when someone fired his gun, but you had no bullet wound. A normal person wouldn't have been able to survive, much less move easily, with that profuse bleeding, yet you could sit up immediately. And your wound healed in a day, something a normal person couldn't achieve."

His tone became softer, as if he was showing he means no harm. "There's also when you talk about countries. You talk as if they have feelings, like countries are actual people."

I looked around and saw everyone in the room looking at me with curious eyes, not one of them hinting of judgment or harm. I sighed, knowing Iggy would disapprove.

I sat down on a nearby chair and looked at my citizens. "It seems that you caught me. Although I can't really explain it myself, I am the embodiment of this country. Technically, I'm not human and my health and such will be determined by the condition of America. So, I don't age the same way as normal humans, and my wounds are bound to heal much faster. Is that a good answer?" Iggy told me before that there would be some sort of panic if our secret is revealed. I expected that, but I heard no shouts, no cries of outrage. The members of the Sons of Liberty were just wide eyed, silent.

"But I'm still the same person!" I blurted out. "It's not like anything changed, right?"

Finally, someone spoke up. "Actually Alfred, this news changes everything. If you really are "America", then you can persuade England to relent these imposing taxes."

A flurry of discussions broke out while a couple were rushing to leave the building to spread the news. I quickly ran to the door and blocked the way out. "Before you leave, you have to promise me not to say a word or hint of my or any other nation's existence. Because I've known all of you for years, I have faith in you. Can I keep it?"

All talking stopped at my outburst. The moment of silence it took them to respond felt like a huge burden.

_What if I I was wrong? What if they'll announce it to the whole world that we exist? What will happen then?_

I felt so _relieved _when the all raised their right hand and swore to never let this secret go out. As one by one filed out, I also felt a swell of pride wash over me. These are my citizens, people who believe in honesty and what they believe would be good for the country.

Adams reminded me of his plan before leaving to buy food for his dinner. I locked the building as I left for my house, groaning at the thought of eating England's food.

An image of his smile flashed in my mind and I smiled, knowing his happy face is enough to make me eat plates of his horribly-cooked food.

My house in sight, I walked a bit faster, knowing I can't dodge the issue any longer.

_I guess I better discuss it with England now before they initiate the plan._

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**Both Part 1 and Part 2 are dedicated to PureWhiteMagic, who accurately guessed Edgeworth was from Gyakuten Kenji. And more than that, I'm surprised she has been actually waiting for this sad story to be updated. So, thank you so much! I hope this chapter doesn't ruin it for you, my friend! **

A/N

Gah! I hate splitting this chapter into two parts. But, it's the best I could do writing this from scratch early morning. I hope my horrible writing didn't make it suck that much. And I'm sorry for rushing it... I'm sure I did. Any mistakes you find, please PM/review me and I'll fix it as soon as I can. But honestly, thanks goes to all the people who still are reading this story or who are new. Thank you so much! It makes me feel happy every time I see someone read my stories~

I know America sounds a bit over-educated, but my idea is that he was, since he was raised by England. He just stopped talking like a fancy person after the revolution. And I finally decided what age he is, which is pretty awesome.

Honestly, I lost my original concept with this story. Taking a long -but unwanted- time off it, I am not satisfied with it anymore. So, I'll write the rest of the chapters and I'll rewrite it afterwards when I get the chance. It'll probably be more in POV's instead and will have more of an interesting plot to it. So look out for that!

And~ please check out my livejournal account for what's happening with me.[The link is on my profile.] So many spontaneous stuff pop out of nowhere in my life, taking all the time I reserved for writing, away. So, please check it out...

If you have any ideas on how to spice this story up, please don't hesitate to PM/comment. Please give me any ideas... this story really needs it. Please R&R?


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